Wes kisses me, and I stop talking. He wraps his arms around my waist to tug me closer to him, and I let my fingers wander into his damp hair. He guides me over to the large bed, and a thrill of anticipation joins the adrenaline already pumping through me. But Wes doesn’t press things any farther than we’ve already taken them. He hovers over me and just keeps kissing me. And kissing me. And kissing me.
I rapidly lose track of time, the same way I do whenever I’m around Weston Cole. Especially when I’m kissing him. It could have been minutes, or an hour could have passed by the time we pull apart.
“I’m going to take that as an affirmative response,” I inform him.
Wes grins. “I’m good with that.”
“Okay,” I reply, smiling back. “I did mean what I said about being busy, though. I have soccer, and school, and student council, and—”
Wes cuts me off. “I don’t exactly sit around all day, Maeve. I’ll manage to entertain myself.”
“I know, I didn’t mean it like that,” I assure him. “You just said I’d been avoiding you, which was kind of true, but it was mostly that I have a lot going on.”
“I know you do. It was just the avoiding part I had a problem with,” Wes tells me. “We’ll see each other when we can, okay?”
“Okay,” I agree.
We catch up on each other’s weeks, until I happen to catch a glimpse of the alarm clock on Wes’s bedside table. “Oh my god, it’s already nine?” I’ve been at Wes’s for almost three hours.
Wes looks just as surprised. “I guess so.” He lets out a disbelieving laugh.
“I’ve got to go. I told my mom I’d be home hours ago.”
Wes nods. “Okay. I’ve got a paper to write, anyway.”
I slide off his bed, straightening my clothes. “This time I will see you around,” I tell him.
He grins. “It was still nice kissing you.” I feel myself blush.
“As fun as the roof was, I’m going to use the front door this time,” I say as I head over to his bedroom door.
“Good thinking,” Wes replies. He climbs off his bed and grabs a sweatshirt hanging on the back of his desk chair. “Hang on, I’ll walk you out.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I assure him. “Start your paper.”
“I want to,” he insists. “Plus, I know how many of those true crime podcasts you listen to. I don’t want you to survive climbing my roof only to be snatched by a serial killer.”
“You were actually listening when I was talking about those?” I ask, surprised. I spouted a lot of random knowledge during our football sessions, but I didn’t think Wes was paying attention, much less would remember what I was saying.
“Was I listening to you while you were talking to me? Uh, yes,” Wes replies.
“Huh,” I respond, and he grins.
“Your house is really nice,” I compliment as I follow him down the grand staircase that leads downstairs.
“I can’t take any credit for it,” Wes replies. “My mom likes to redecorate when she’s upset or stressed. Which means she tends to redo things as soon as they’re finished.”
“It looked like they were arguing. When I saw them in the living room.”
“They were,” Wes confirms. “My mom found out the woman he had an affair with in the city was at a dinner he went to last night.”
“That’s awful,” I say.
“Yeah,” Wes sighs. “I feel badly for her, but I don’t know what else to say. It’s her choice to stay, you know? I’ve told her I’m fine with them getting divorced.” He opens the front door, and I follow him outside into the quiet night. It’s cooler than usual, the first traces of fall are evident in the breezy air.
“I’m sorry, Wes. You know I have plenty of issues with my own dad, but I can’t imagine going through what you are. I wish I could fix it for you.”
“You help, Maeve. I’ve never talked to anyone about this stuff before. Talking to you helps.”
“I’m glad.” The trip back to my mother’s car passes much more quickly with Wes by my side. “This is me,” I say as we stop next to her silver SUV.
“New car?” Wes asks.
“No, it’s my mom’s. Liam needed the sedan, the team had an extra-long practice, or something.”
Wes doesn’t say anything in response, but he gives me another soft kiss before shoving his hands in his sweatshirt pockets and backing away.
“Night, Cole.”
“Good night, Stevens,” he replies. “I’m glad you came.”
I smile. “Me, too.”
I climb in the car and start to drive back towards Glenmont. There’s a goofy grin on my lips I can’t seem to shake, even in the fifteen minutes it takes me to pull into my driveway. I’m surprised to see about a dozen cars parked on the street, most of them directly in front of my house. I climb out of the car, grab my practice gear, and hope my parents haven’t called in a search party for me as I open the front door.
Our front hallway opens into the living room, and as I shut the door behind me I’m greeted by the faces of every senior on the Glenmont football team. When I appear, they all look away from the diagram my father’s drawing out on a whiteboard he must have brought home from school. At me.
“Uh, hey guys,” I greet, self-conscious. I haven’t glanced at my appearance since I left Wes’s, and I really hope there’s no obvious evidence I just spent a few hours making out with Alleghany’s quarterback.
A few greetings sound from around the room, and Matt and Sam give me smiles.
“Where have you been, Maeve?” Liam asks. “Mom said you were supposed to be home hours ago.”
“Yeah, I was at Maggie’s,” I reply, grateful for the first time they’ve all iced her out following her move to Alleghany. “I forgot to let Mom know I was staying so late.”
“You forgot to let her know?” Liam echoes, sounding surprised. It’s unlike me, and we both know it.
I shift uncomfortably. “I’ll let you guys get back to learning plays.”
I head into the kitchen, and find my mother at the table, squinting at the computer screen.
“Hi, Mom,” I greet, strolling over to the fridge to pour myself a glass of water.
“Maeve!” she exclaims. “Where have you been? I expected you home hours ago! And you didn’t answer any of my texts.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” I reply. “I was at Maggie’s, and I lost track of time.” This lie is a slightly bigger gamble. My mother is friends with Maggie’s. But I can’t change my story from what I already told Liam. I can only hope it will never come up, and that if it does enough time will have passed that no one remembers the discrepancy in the three hours it took me to make a twenty minute drive.
“All right, just let me know next time,” my mother tells me. I nod. “There’s dinner in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
“Okay,” I reply.
Matt enters the kitchen as I’m watching my meatloaf spin inside the microwave. “Hey, Mrs. Stevens,” he greets my mother.
“Hi, Matt,” she replies, smiling warmly.
“What’s for dinner?” Matt asks me as he grabs a sports drink from the fridge.
“Reheated meatloaf,” I respond.
“That’s what happens when you stay out gossiping until nine,” Matt teases me. “Maggie doing okay?”
I’m tempted to encourage him to ask her himself. But for selfish reasons that’s the last thing I want right now. “Yeah, she is,” I reply.
“She have a lot to say about Alleghany?”
I eye him apprehensively. “I’m not some sort of spy, Matt. And I don’t think a rundown of who is hooking up with who in Alleghany is going to help you beat their football team, anyway.” The microwave beeps, and I pull my steaming dinner out.
Matt raises his hands in a placating gesture. “I was just making conversation, Maeve. No one’s doubting your loyalty to Glenmont.”
“I’ve got a lot of homework to do,” I say. “So I’m going to head upstairs. I’ll see you tomo
rrow?”
“Okay,” Matt agrees. “See you tomorrow.”
I give him a small smile before heading towards the staircase and up into my room. As I eat my late dinner and complete the assignments I have due tomorrow, I contemplate the words that came to mind in response to Matt’s hasty assurance he knows where my loyalties lie.
‘No one’s doubting your loyalty to Glenmont’ is what he said to me.
My first thought?
Maybe you should.
chapter thirteen
Weston
Secret relationships are tricky. They’re complicated, complex, and confusing. Especially mine, if for no other reason than I don’t even know if we’re in a relationship. Partly because I’ve never been in one, and mostly because whatever Maeve and I have defies the norms of what any rational person would consider to be one. We don’t go out on dates. We don’t spend time with each other’s friends, or family. If we ever saw each other in public, we wouldn’t acknowledge each other.
We meet up someplace empty and deserted whenever we have a free, overlapping hour, usually either the park in Fayetteville or my uncle’s cabin, and we talk and kiss. We don’t label anything, or talk about our feelings. We just . . . be.
But just because we haven't talked about our feelings doesn’t mean I don’t have them. I expected this year to be filled with football, and expectations, and meaningless flings. I didn’t expect to spend every spare second I have with a girl from Glenmont. And to have those stretches of time be the highlight of my week. I text her as I leave practice, heading in the direction of my car.
“Hey, Wes.” I glance up from my phone to see Emily is leaning against one of the tall trees that line the parking lot.
“Hey,” I respond. “What are you doing out here?”
Emily shrugs. “My mom was supposed to pick me up. My car’s in the shop.”
“Do you need a ride?” I offer. “It’s not like it’s out of my way.” Emily’s house is a few doors down from mine.
“Yeah, that would be great, actually,” she responds. “Let me just let her know I’m all set.” She types something in her phone, and then straightens, walking over to me. She’s still in her cheerleading outfit, and I get a few envious glances from my teammates as she follows me over to my car and climbs in the passenger seat. My phone buzzes, and I pull it out to see a response from Maeve. I’m free after eight.
I shake my head in amusement. She wasn’t kidding about her schedule. I’m busy, but I seriously don’t know how Maeve manages to juggle everything that she does. EIGHT? I send back, along with a shocked emoji.
Past your bedtime, Cole? she immediately replies.
I feel myself grin, as I let her know I’ll meet her then. I shut off my phone, and look up to see Emily studying me. I set my phone in the center console and turn on the car. “Sorry about that,” I say. “Any musical requests?”
“I’m good with anything,” Emily replies.
“So . . . you forcing the team to do its competition routine to the song you selected since freshman year is just a rumor?” I tease.
Emily laughs. “Okay, I’ll choose something.” She starts fiddling with the controls of the stereo. Some pop song starts playing, and I half-regret saying anything. I only did because I was worried she might ask who I was texting.
“So, how have things been lately?” I ask, keeping my question vague, although I’m pretty sure I already know since she’s riding in my car.
Sure enough, she sighs. “It’s been worse lately.”
Everyone at Alleghany High assumes Emily and I started hooking up because we’re each other’s natural counterpart. Football captain and head cheerleader. Prom king and queen. Voted Most Popular. While that was probably part of it, we first connected thanks to our less than idyllic home lives. A few months after my family moved to Alleghany, Emily appeared when I was playing basketball in our driveway. She admitted to me her mother spends weekdays sloshed, and her father is hardly ever home. She was mostly raised by their housekeeper. I’ve never shared the specifics of my own family’s drama, but enough to let her know I get what it’s like to have a fractured family.
“I’m sorry, Emily,” I reply. “If there’s ever anything I can do . . . ”
She shakes her head. “It’s fine. I’ll be out of there soon. Maybe that will finally be enough to make my father face the fact his wife is an alcoholic. Are things okay with you?”
“Yeah, they are,” I reply honestly. “I’m barely home these days, so that helps.”
Emily laughs. “Yeah, that definitely does. I feel like you’ve hardly been around, though. Did you even show up at Josh’s last weekend?”
“I was there for a bit,” I reply. “But I headed out early. We’ve got our game against Glenmont soon, and things are intense.”
Emily nods. “I get it. If you ever need some stress relief . . . ” She lets her voice trail off suggestively. We haven’t hooked up since the start of the summer, and I’m surprised it’s taken her this long to bring it up.
I debate how honest I should be as I drive along the familiar roads. “I’m not sure that would be the best idea.”
“Did you find a new hookup?” Emily asks.
“Not exactly,” I hedge. “I’m just not into having sex for the sake of having sex anymore.”
“And that’s all it would be to you?”
“Yes,” I admit. Emily’s hinted before she would be open to a relationship, and I’ve always danced around the topic. Maeve Stevens has made my answer clear.
“Okay,” Emily replies. She’s good at hiding her emotions, so I can’t help but confirm.
“You’re sure? I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine, Wes,” Emily says. “Really. I appreciate the honesty. It’s more than most guys can manage.” There’s no trace of hurt in her voice, but I can’t help but feel like she’s being more cavalier than she feels. I certainly don’t want to draw the topic out though, so I let it drop.
“Want to stop for ice cream?” I suggest.
“What are we, five?” Emily asks. But she’s smiling as she says it.
“I didn’t realize there was an age limit on enjoying ice cream,” I inform her as I pull into the parking lot. She rolls her eyes, but hops out of my car eagerly.
We attract a lot of stares as we make our way over to the order window. Boastful as it sounds, we’re probably Alleghany High’s two best-known attendees.
“Ladies first,” I instruct Emily as we reach the window. She scoffs, and then leans forward to place her order. I’d guess the boy working the register is a freshman or sophomore based on the way he stutters and stammers as he takes her order. I give her an amused smile as she steps away, and she rolls her eyes. I order a milkshake, and then follow Emily over to the green picnic table she selects.
We sit in companionable silence, eating the frozen dessert.
“Are you worried about the Glenmont game?” Emily eventually asks me.
“About losing? No.”
“What else would you be worried about?”
Maeve Stevens hating me.
“There’s going to be a lot of scouts there,” I say instead, which is true.
“Isn’t Lincoln pretty much a sure thing at this point? I know you’ve still got your official visit this week, but that’s what Chris and Adam were indicating, at least.”
“Yeah, it is,” I affirm. “I’m just not sure if I want it to be a sure thing.”
“Oh,” Emily replies. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s not really anything to discuss,” I tell her honestly. “I’ll see what my options end up being, and then I’ll have to make a decision.”
She nods.
“What about you?” I ask. “Any idea where you want to end up?”
“No idea,” Emily replies. “Probably someplace far, far away from here. I’m over this town.”
“Small towns are exhausting. I definitely miss living in the city,” I respond. “For ex
ample, if we were there, I don’t think every person would be staring at us.”
Emily laughs. I’m not exaggerating.
We finish eating, and I drop Emily off at her house before continuing down the street to my own. When I pull into the driveway, I’m surprised to see both Charlie and Chris’s cars already parked. I enter my house to find them sprawled out on the couch in the living room.
“Funny running into you two here,” I inform them. “In my house.”
Chris laughs. “We thought you might want to play some pick-up. Since today was a film day.”
“Adam had to get home,” Charlie adds. “But we told him we’d fill him in on whether you and Emily are back on.”
“So that’s why you two are here,” I realize. “Seriously? You weren’t even in the parking lot when we left.”
“Oh, how sweet and innocent you are,” Charlie teases. “I’m sure the whole school knows you drove her home. What took you so long, anyway? We’ve been her for like twenty minutes, and we left after you did.”
“We stopped for ice cream,” I admit, knowing they’ll hear about it anyway.
“How wholesome,” Chris remarks. “Do you think you’ll manage to move on to holding her hand sometime this month?”
“It’s none of your business, but nothing is going on with me and Emily,” I inform them. “We’re just friends.”
“You’re just friends,” Chris states disbelievingly. “With the hottest, most popular girl in school, who’s had a thing for you since you moved here?”
I shift uncomfortably. We barely talk in public. I hadn't realized Emily’s feelings were evident to anyone else.
“We’re just friends,” I repeat.
“Well, that’s seriously disappointing,” Charlie remarks, sighing. “But I guess we can play some football anyway.”
We head out into my sprawling backyard. Colorful autumn foliage surrounds us as fallen leaves crunch underfoot. We’ve just started tossing the ball around when my father’s flashy car pulls in the driveway. I groan as he parks at the end of the row of cars already filling our driveway and steps out. Charlie and Chris send me questioning looks that indicate the sound wasn’t very quiet. I’ve never hidden how I feel about my father in front of them, but I’ve also never told them why I treat him with such disregard. Considering he acts like Father of the Year in front of them, I know our tense relationship confuses them.
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